3.2.0.21824Enter the Duke of Norfolk, Duke of Suffolk, Lord Surrey, 1825and Lord Chamberlain. If you will now unite in your complaints
3.2.21827And force them with a constancy, the cardinal
3.2.31828Cannot stand under them. If you omit
3.2.41829The offer of this time I cannot promise
3.2.51830But that you shall sustain more new disgraces
I am joyful
3.2.81833To meet the least occasion that may give me
3.2.91834Remembrance of my father-in-law the duke
Which of the peers
3.2.121837Have uncondemned gone by him, or at least
My lords, you speak your pleasures;
3.2.181843What we can do to him, (though now the time
3.2.191844Gives way to us) I much fear. If you cannot
3.2.201845BBar his access to' th' king, never attempt
3.2.211846Anything on him; for he hath a witchcraft
O fear him not,
3.2.241849His spell in that is out: the King hath found
3.2.261851The honey of his language. No, he's settled
Sir,
3.2.291854I should be glad to hear such news as this
Believe it, this is true.
3.2.321857In the Diuorce, his contrarie proceedings
How came
Most strangely.
O, how? how?
The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried
3.2.401865And came to th' eye o' th' king, wherein was read
3.2.411866How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness
3.2.421867To stay the judgement o' th' divorce; for if
3.2.431868It did take place, 'I do', (quoth he) 'perceive
3.2.451870A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.'
Has the King this?
Believe it.
Will this work?
The king in this perceiuvs him, how he coasts
3.2.501875And hedges his own way. But in this point
3.2.511876All his tricks founder, and he brings his physick
3.2.521877After his patient's death: the king already
Would he had.
May you be happy in your wish, my lord,
Now all my joy
My amen to't.
All men's.
There's order given for her coronation;
3.2.621887Marry this is yet but young and may be left
3.2.631888To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords,
3.2.651890In mind and feature. I persuade me, from her
3.2.661891Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall
But will the king
Marry, amen.
No, no!
3.2.731898There be more wasps that buzz about his nose
3.2.741899Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius
3.2.751900Is stolen away to Rome, hath ta'en no leave,
3.2.761901Has left the cause o'th' king unhandled, and
3.2.781903To second all his plot. I do assure you,
Now God incense him,
But my lord,
He is returned in his opinions, which
3.2.851910Have satisfied the king for his divorce,
3.2.871912Almost in christendom. Shortly, (I believe),
3.2.881913His second marriage shall be published, and
3.2.901915Shall be called queen, but Princess Dowager
This same Cranmer's
3.2.931918A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain
He has, and we shall see him
So I hear.
'Tis so.
Observe, observe; he's moody.
The packet, Cromwell,
To his own hand, in's bedchamber.
Looked he o'th'inside of the paper?
Presently
Is he ready to come abroad?
I think by this he is.
Leave me a while.
3.2.1141940The French king's sister; he shall marry her.
3.2.1151941Anne Bullen? No, I'll no Anne Bullens for him;
3.2.1181944To hear from Rome. The marchioness of Pembroke?
He's discontented.
Maybe he hears the king
Sharp enough,
The late queen's gentlewoman?
3.2.1261952To be her mistress's mistress? The queen's queen?
3.2.1271953This candle burns not clear; 'tis I must snuff it
3.2.1281954Then out it goes. What, though I know her virtuous
3.2.1311957Our cause, that she should lie i'th'bosom of
3.2.1321958Our hard ruled king. Again there is sprung up
He is vexed at something.
I would 'twer something that would fret the string,
The king. The king.
What piles of wealth hath he accumulated
3.2.1411968To his own portion? And what expense by'th'hour
3.2.1421969Seems to flow from him? How i'th'name of thrift
My lord, we have
3.2.1461973Stood here observing him. Some strange commotion
3.2.1471974Is in his brain; he bites his lip and starts,
3.2.1491976Then lays his finger on his temple; straight
3.2.1501977Springs out into fast gate, then stops again,
3.2.1521979His eye against the moon. In most strange postures
It may well be
3.2.1601987The several parcels of his plate, his treasure,
3.2.1611988Rich stuffs and ornaments of household, which
3.2.1621989I find at such proud rate that it out-speaks
It's heaven's will
If we did think
3.2.1691996And fixed on spiritual object, he should still
3.2.173.1King takes his Seat, whispers [to] Lovell, who goes 2001to the Cardinal. Heaven forgive me,
Good my lord,
3.2.1772005You are full of heavenly stuff and bear the inventory
3.2.1792007You were now running o'er. You have scarce time
3.2.1802008To steal from spiritual leisure, a brief span
Sir,
3.2.1892017I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal,
You have said well.
And ever may your highness yoke together,
'Tis well said again,
3.2.1972025And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you;
3.2.2002028I have kept you next my heart, have not alone
3.2.2012029Employed you where high profits might come home,
What should this mean?
The lord increase this business.
Have I not made you
3.2.2072035The prime man of the state? I pray you tell me,
3.2.2082036If what I now pronounce you have found true,
My sovereign, I confess your royal graces,
3.2.2122040Showered on me daily, have been more than could
3.2.2172045Have been mine so, that evermore they pointed
3.2.2192047The profit of the state. For your great graces
Fairly answered.
3.2.2312059My heart dropped love, my power rained honor, more
3.2.2332061YYour brain and every function of your power,
3.2.2342062Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty
I do profess
3.2.2392067More then mine own; that am, have, and will be
3.2.2402068(Though all the world should cracke their duty to you,
3.2.2412069And throw it from their soul, though perils did
3.2.2422070Abound, as thick as thought could make 'em, and
3.2.2452073Should the approach of this wild river break
'Tis nobly spoken.
3.2.2492077For you have seen him open't. Read o'er this,
3.2.251.12080Exit King, frowning upon the Cardinal, the Nobles 2081throng after him, smiling and whispering. What should this mean?
3.2.2532083What sudden anger's this? How have I reaped it?
3.2.2552085Leaped from his eyes. So looks the chafed lion
3.2.2562086Upon the daring huntsman that has galled him;
3.2.2572087Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper;
3.2.2602090Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together
3.2.2612091For mine own ends, (indeed to gain the popedom,
3.2.2652095I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this?
3.2.2682098A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune
3.2.2692099Will bring me off again. What's this? To th'pope?
3.2.2702100The letter (as I live) with all the business
3.2.2722102I have touched the highest point of all my greatness,
3.2.276.12107Enter to Wolsey the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the 2108Earl of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlain. Hear the king's pleasure, cardinal,
Stay.
3.2.2842116WWhere's your commission? Lords, words cannot carry
Who dare cross 'em,
3.2.2872119Bearing the king's will from his mouth expressly?
Till I finde more then will, or words to do it,
3.2.2962128You have Christian warrant for 'em, and no doubt
3.2.2972129In time will find their fit rewards. That seal
3.2.2992131(Mine and your master), with his own hand gave me,
3.2.3022134Tied it by letters patents. Now, who'll take it?
The king that gave it.
It must be himself, then.
Thou art a proud traitor, priest.
Proud lord, thou liest.
3.2.3072139Within these forty hours, Surrey, durst better
Thy ambition
3.2.3102142(Thou scarlet sin), robbed this bewailing land
3.2.3132145(With thee, and all thy best parts bound together),
3.2.3142146Weighed not a hair of his. Plague of your policy,
3.2.3162148Far from his succor; from the king, from all
3.2.3172149That might have mercy on the fault, thou gav'st him,
3.2.3182150Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity,
This and all else,
3.2.3262158If I loved many words, lord, I should tell you
By my soul
3.2.3352167My sword i'th'life blood of thee else. My lords,
3.2.3372169And from this fellow? If we live thus tamely
3.2.3392171Farewell nobility; let his grace go forward,
All goodness
Yes, that goodness
3.2.3452177Into your own hands, cardinal, by extortion;
3.2.3472179You writ to'th pope against the king; your goodness,
3.2.3482180Since you provoke me, shall be most notorious.
3.2.3522184(Whom, if he live, will scarce be gentlemen),
3.2.3532185Produce the grand sum of his sins, the articles
3.2.3552187Worse then the sacring bell when the brown wench
How much, methinks, I could despise this man
Those articles, my lord, are in the king's hand;
So much fairer
This cannot saue you.
3.2.3672199Now, if you can blush and cry guilty, cardinal,
Speak on, sir;
I had rather want those than my head;
3.2.3742206First, that without the king's assent or knowledge,
Then, that in all you writ to Rome, or else
3.2.3792211Was still inscribed, in which you brought the king
Then, that without the knowledge
Item: you sent a large commission
3.2.3872219Without the king's will or the state's allowance,
That out of mere ambition you have caused
3.2.3902222Your holy hat to be stamped on the king's coin.
Then, that you have sent innumerable substance,
3.2.3922224(By what means got, I leave to your own conscience),
O, my lord,
3.2.3992231Press not a falling man too far! 'tis virtue;
3.2.4012233Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him
I forgive him.
Lord cardinal, the king's further pleasure is,
3.2.4052237Because all those things you have done of late
3.2.4062238By your power legislative within this kingdom,
3.2.4082240That therefore such a writ be sued against you
3.2.4092241To forfeit all your goods, lands, tenements,
3.2.4112243Out of the king's protection. This is my charge.
And so we'll leave you to your meditations
3.2.4132245HHow to live better. For your stubborn answer
3.2.4152247The king shall know it and, no doubt, shall thank you.
3.2.4162248So fare you well, my little good Lord cardinal.
So farewell to the little good you bear me.
3.2.4182251Farewell? A long farewell to all my greatness.
3.2.4192252This is the state of man; today he puts forth
3.2.4202253The tender leaves of hopes, tomorrow blossoms,
3.2.4212254And bears his blushing honors thick upon him.
3.2.4222255The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
3.2.4232256And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
3.2.4262259Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders.
3.2.4282261But far beyond my depth. My high-blown pride
3.2.4292262At length broke under me and now has left me
3.2.4322265Vain pomp and glory of this world I hate ye,
3.2.4342267Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors?
3.2.4352268There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
3.2.4362269That sweet aspect of princes and their ruin,
3.2.4372270More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
I have no power to speak, sir.
What, amazed
3.2.4442278A great man should decline? Nay, and you weep
How does your grace.
Why, well.
3.2.4512285A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me.
3.2.4522286I humbly thank his grace, and from these shoulders,
I am glad your grace
I hope I have.
The heaviest and the worst
God bless him.
The next is that Sir Thomas More is chosen
That's somewhat sudden,
3.2.4722306Long in his highness's favor, and do justice
3.2.4732307For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones,
3.2.4742308When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings,
3.2.4752309May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on him.
That Cranmer is returned with welcome;
That's news, indeed.
Last, that the lady Anne,
There was the weight that pulled me down.
3.2.4912325Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell;
3.2.4942328(That sun I pray may never set), I have told him
3.2.4952329What and how true thou art. He will advance thee.
3.2.4982332Thy hopeful service perish, too. Good Cromwell,
O, my lord,
3.2.5042338Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
3.2.5052339With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
3.2.5062340The King shall have my service, but my prayers
Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
3.2.5102344(Out of thy honest truth), to play the woman.
3.2.5112345Let's dry our eyes. And thus far hear me, Cromwell,
3.2.5132347And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
3.2.5142348Of me more must be heard of; say I taught thee;
3.2.5152349Say Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,
3.2.5162350And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor,
3.2.5172351Found thee a way (out of his wreck), to rise in;
3.2.5182352A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.
3.2.5202354Cromwell, I charge thee: fling away ambition;
3.2.5212355By that sin fell the angels. How can man then
3.2.5222356(The image of his maker), hope to win by it?
3.2.5232357Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee.
3.2.5262360To silence envious tongues. Be just and fear not;
3.2.5272361Let all the ends thou aimest at be thy countries,
3.2.5282362Thy gods, and truths. Then if thou fallest, O Cromwell,
3.2.5342368I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell;
Good sir, have patience.
So I have. Farewell
3.2.5402374The hopes of court; my hopes in heaven do dwell.